Mirror, Mirror
by KillWithAQuill
Summary: Sam and Dean have made friends with a teen girl (that's you, the reader), but there's something about her; she can't bear to see her reflection. Can Sam and Dean help her to overcome this fear?


**MIRROR, MIRROR: A SUPERNATURAL FANFICTION ~ Laura Jayne Hunt**

Looking in the mirror was always my worst nightmare.

I simply hated the figure that stared back at me. She presented me with my true self, and it made me want to cry every time I saw it.

I did anything I could just to avoid the reflective surfaces that surrounded me every day, from bathroom mirrors to shop windows. It was almost like I was trying to escape from Bloody Mary herself.

Sam and Dean seemed to notice this. I was worried they would think that my behaviour was erratic and uncalled for. I was also worried that they secretly thought that I was crazy, but they were too polite to tell it to my face. I'd been friends with them for a while, since they saved me from death at the hands of a demon. But I still couldn't tell them my deepest, darkest secret… Not yet, anyway.

"There's something about her that I can't put my finger on…"

Sam and Dean had made friends with a young girl, after they had saved her from a potentially violent demon. If they hadn't turned up when they did, she would have been dead, they knew it; that demon had a grudge to bear, and would've taken anyone who stood in their way.

"What's that, Sammy?" Dean asked his brother as they were drinking coffee one day.

"It's like… Every time we walk past a mirror or reflective surface, she always turns her head away or goes the other way just to avoid looking at it."

"You reckon Bloody Mary's made a comeback?" Dean smirked a little at his own remark.

"Or she's scared of her own reflection."

"Could be possible." Dean stopped as he realised something. "Or maybe, she just can't stand it."

"What?" Sam wondered.

"Her reflection. Maybe there's something in her reflection that she can't stand to look at, and she runs on because when she looks in a mirror, she hates what she sees."

"You could be right. But how could she hate herself _that_ much that she runs every time she sees a reflective surface? I mean, she's a great girl. She's talented, she's funny…"

"And she's beautiful," Dean added.

"Exactly. But, you know how people say a mirror shows you your true image?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah…"

"Maybe that's what she's afraid of."

I'd seen the looks Sam and Dean had started to give me. They knew that I was weird because I couldn't look at my own reflection. It sounds weird, but I just can't stand what I see. Sam and Dean obviously had picked up on this, and I started to feel a little paranoid around them. I constantly felt like they were plotting something without me, and it always made me feel a little uneasy. Maybe they'd start to think I was possessed or something. Well, I was possessed; not demonically, but with _self-hate._

"Hey, can you help me with something?" Dean asked one day out of the blue as we were working a case. This case involved a series of mysterious deaths, and they all centred around a dance complex, of all places. It was my worst nightmare; all of the mirrors in all of those studios.

"Sure," I nodded, thinking nothing of it.

He led me into one of the studios, which was dark. Sam was stood by the light switch, and he flicked it on quickly. The lights blinkered a couple of times before a flood of light washed over the room.

And there it was. Right in front of me.

The mirror.

I felt my breathing become quicker, my palms became sweaty, and I just wanted to escape.

"Is this a wind-up?" I said, attempting to be calm but failing miserably.

I collapsed to the floor, placing my hands over my eyes and bringing my head to my knees.

"I thought you were my friends!" I cried in despair. How could they?! I never thought they would have done _this_ , making me come face-to-face with my worst nightmare.

Dean said nothing, but stared at me. Sam, however, was quick to react. He knelt by my side, placing an arm across my shoulders. He shot a stern glance up at his brother.

"I told you this was a bad idea," he muttered.

"I didn't know she was going to react like _this_ , Sam!" he shouted back.

"We shouldn't have done this. This is wrong."

"And being scared of your own reflection is _right_? Come on, Sammy!"

"Dean…"

Sam and Dean stared at each other as I kept looking at the floor, but then I lost it.

"STOP IT!" I shouted, raising my head a little, staring at Sam and Dean, avoiding my reflection altogether.

"Please…" I pleaded with them.

Sam still had his arm around me. I looked at the floor, ashamed of myself for flipping out in front of them. Now they could see how weak I really was.

Sam took hold of my hand and helped me stand up, and Dean moved to stand beside me.

"I'm sorry," he apologised. "I didn't know you were going to react like this."

I shook my head. "No, you don't have to apologise. It's okay."

"No, it's not," Dean argued. "You're hurting, and that is most certainly _not_ okay."

"Why can't you look in a mirror?" Sam asked gently, his eyes wide with concern.

I swallowed nervously. "I'm scared of it," I said, staring down at my shoes.

"You're scared of your reflection?" Dean questioned.

"It sounds pathetic, I know, but it's true."

"But why?" Sam asked, almost sounding like he was hurt.

"Because I can't bear to see the girl staring back at me," I confessed. "I'm such a disappointment to her. I've let her down time after time. I've tried to do the right thing but I've tripped up somewhere and took her down with me."

I could feel tears dripping down my face. Crap, I thought. I didn't want to cry in front of the Winchesters. But it happened, and now I had to deal with the consequences.

Sam still had hold of my hand. He gave it a comforting squeeze.

"Hey… Look at me…" he whispered tenderly.

I looked up at him, a watery glaze coating my eyes. His hazel eyes were bright, warm and friendly.

"It's okay to feel like this. We all have days like this. But you can't feel like this forever."

I tried to let go of his hand, but he wouldn't let me. His grip tightened against my hand.

"We all have times when we're afraid," Dean said. I turned to look up at him, his candy-apple green eyes shining in the light.

"But there comes a time where we have to face our fears."

"I don't think I can do this…" I said shakily.

"Yes you can," Sam said, squeezing my hand again. "You _can_ do this."

I bit my lip, and took a deep breath. My gaze moved onto the mirror. I began to panic again, but I tried not to show it.

I let go of Sam's hand and walked forwards a tiny way, staring at my face as I did so. But nothing could hide the disappointment I felt for myself, and I felt tears dripping down my face again.

"What do you see?" Sam asked me quietly.

"You what?" I retaliated, a little angrily.

"What do you see when you look in the mirror?" he repeated just as gently.

I looked back at the girl in the mirror again. It was almost like she was reaching out to me.

"I see… I see a cry for help. I see disappointment. I see loneliness. I see…" I stopped, unable to take the hurt any more.

Dean took a step forward and took my hand. My eyes darted to his reflection.

"You know, I wish you could see what Sam and I see," he told me.

"What do you see then?"

Sam stepped forward and decided to retake my hand.

"I see someone who doesn't know how great she is."

I turned up to look at him.

"You… wait, what?"

His hazel eyes smiled at me knowingly.

I looked back at the mirror, then up at Sam again.

"I mean it. You're funny, you're smart, and you're talented…" Sam said.

"No, I'm not," I said shyly.

"Yes, you are," Sam argued, firmly but friendly.

"And you're beautiful," Dean said, his eyes painted a shade of honesty.

I looked at him.

"I think you need to get your eyes checked out, Dean, because I am _not…_ " I argued.

Dean stood in front of me, placing his hands on my shoulders.

"The one that needs their eyes checking out is _you_ … You're _so_ beautiful."

I bit my lip and stared at my shoes unsurely. Dean placed his fingers under my jawline and tilted my chin up so my gaze matched his. He smiled gently at me.

"Take a look for yourself," Sam said, indicating to the mirror.

I looked again, and my whole perspective changed. No longer did I see the cry for help or the desperation. I saw myself in a whole new light, and it was all thanks to Sam and Dean, who were smiling at me.

For the first time in years, I smiled back at my reflection. With Sam and Dean's hands holding mine, I felt like nothing was impossible.


End file.
